Alan waited in his treatment room, lounging in his comfortable sleepwear. The space, usually clinical during the day, had been transformed by the soft evening light into something gentler and unexpectedly welcoming. The mellow glow gave the white walls a warmer tone, and the quiet hum of the equipment blended with the calm of the hour. Samuel stood a short distance away, pretending to check something on his tablet while actually keeping a cautious eye on the door.
When Amelia finally walked in, she looked like she had been dragged through exhaustion and back again. Dark circles sat beneath her eyes, and her usual confident stride had been reduced to a slow and uneven shuffle. Still, as she stepped inside and shut the door behind her, she forced on her doctor expression as if it were a uniform she knew she had no choice but to wear.
"You look dead on your feet," Alan said, his usual calm tone replaced by something softer and more concerned. "Are you alright?"
